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Been quite awhile since the last post, a bit down in the dumps this past few days…and I don’t think me friend, Sunzhine, would believe that… neverthe less, I am not really in a f*#king-writing mood, but let me express how I feel today through Tracy’s words:

I’ll let a train be my feet if it’s too far to walk to you
And if a train don’t go there
I’ll get a jet or a bus
‘Cuz I’m gonna find you
You’re gonna see my shadow soon around you
And my head is my only house unless it rains
I’ve walked the meadow plains
Water deserts on my eyes until I find you
I won’t sleep until I find you
I won’t eat until I find you
And my heart won’t beat
Until I wrap my arms around you
And my arms are just two things in the way till I can wrap them around you
You can make a sad song happy
And a bad world good
I can feel you out there movin’
You’re mine and I know I’ll find you
And my head is my only house until I found you
I hate to hear other people hear me sing this song
If it reaches you before I do
Follow this song to I love you
That’s where I’ll find you
And my head is my only house unless it rains

 Shoots! I don’t really wanna drive!!!!!!!

 I dunno why me boss is driving me crazy with pushing me to get a license. Am ok already with the present set-up   -   the driver picking me up from my house every morning and dropping me off after work.  I feel comfortable with this, why the sudden change?

There must be a partly hidden agenda on this new reVolution, and I have a slight idea.

So there I was the other day honing my mediocre driving skill.  I hired the service of a professional driver, well-trained and lotsa patience….for free!!!!!!!

 I have this disturbing feeling that I am the hardest-to-learn-how-to-drive person in the whole wide universe, while I could almost always easily pick-up learnings in some other stuff.  Yet, with driving…me sucks BIGtime!

And my biggest fear is I have this tendency to get really seriously nervous while driving esp. when vehicles behind me is honking to the top of their car’s vocal chords while I was like driving a funeral car…. the slowest, I mean.

Hopefully this time around I’ll get to learn … how to drive like crazy….otherwise, I’ll drive other drivers craZZZZZZy!

Now whaaaat???

 

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That anti-social term that Michael is throwing at me is indeed an overstatement.  I forgot how many times he hurled the word and it’s getting into me and that’s a serious accusation. 

Hmmm… what does the term means anyway? 

The English Thesaurus gives the word the following meaning: “…unsociable, unfriendly, disagreeable, shy, disruptive, rebellious, harmful, inconsiderable, selfish…” Am none of those…not absolutely though. 

Okey, am shy at times, but definitely harmless and positively selfless. There’s no way either that I am unsociable… I would rather say, am cautious or a bit selective for practical and personal reason. 

There may be times or as a rule of thumb, I don’t like wasting my time with nonsense talks or meeting and discussing topics with people that do not really interest me or we don’t have a common ground, much less joining groups that I find to be having unreasonable causes. 

You see Michael, my dear friend, If I compel myself in establishing ally with people that I found to be not sharing the same interest or discussing stuff that I don’t really like or me talking about things that they’re not interested in, do you really think that we could get along well? 

Not that I don’t have a genuine interest in people, I do, juz that most of the people around us nowadays aren’t genuine enough to spark an interest. But that doesn’t mean that I am anti-social.  You see, if I am, why was I able to establish acquaintances and friendship with people I’ve met during my travels who until now are actively keeping in touch. 

Why do I choose to travel alone? 

That’s because I want to experience total cultural immersion – meeting other people outside of our familiar circle.  We may have limited or less common grounds but what makes it interesting is the cultural exchange, the sharing of various differences, the bartering of ideas and thoughts based on each and everyone’s ethnical background.  

That’s a practical example.  See, if I travel with friends in our circle, which most by the way aren’t interested in traveling, and if they are, nearly everyone aren’t into cultural immersion instead basically they just want to have a nice shot with those popular landmarks.  And during travels we would be discussing among us and keeps on comparing other cultures to ours rather than (my interest) of exchanging cultural stuff with others, or my idea of plunging and experiencing their culture, their traditions, their ethnicity, their social mores.  And I will just feel guilty with the thought that my travel had been wasted. 

Well, not that I won’t be enjoying it with friends, I surely would, but it will be more fun if I did what I wanted to do. 

And the great tragedy is sometimes (or most times) eventhough we belong to the same circle, same culture, same language, same nation, even same city —  yet we cannot establish an effective communication and the differences among us is quite uninteresting to discuss because the subjects are mostly on personal basis as oppose to cultural or societal as in the case of other people outside of our usual circle (i.e. other nationalities). 

But for the record, I have several friends and countless acquaintances – that I would prove to be successful in a networking enterprise if ever I embark into one. And to be honest, I have some other factors that influences my belief about social limitations. 

For one, I want to maintain a certain degree of privacy… am sure Michael mi amigo, that you know some of the reasons. Having said that, I assure you that I am certainly not an antisocial. 

You may say – I just have some degree of fussiness at a negligible level and it’s imbedded in my DNA, yet, reasonable at that. 

K.A.P.I.S.H?

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I was watching the movie “The Illusionist” last night, a nice movie that stars Edward Norton, when it reminded me of things that invokes mystery. There is this small old building interior near the commercial center of Ballad on the other side of the lake in Red Sea Palace Hotel, and exactly at the rear side of the AlAzhar Hotel in Madinah road which always mystify me.   

It’s been there for a long long time, in fact since I came to this country it was already there, untouched and no matter how much developments are taking place around the vicinity, the old edifice remains to be unscathed, left to it’s own device. 

What’s in there?  What’s this old structure?  Does it have any history?  It baffles me that there are so much new buildings going on around it but that piece of ancient structure remains there as is.  

A local friend had given me the puzzle when I was not really noticing it before.  As far as I could remember he once told me this dubiously perplexing story that several attempts were done to ravage the old structure in order to build a new building there, but he said everytime someone attempts to tear it down, trouble comes to the person who’s about to do it.  Disturbing, right? 

While he was telling me the story, though I don’t really subscribe to the idea,  still it’s giving me the creeps, sounds like there’s an omen or sumthin’ really bizarre about this ruin ….hmmm… weird.  

Then someone said that it used to be a place of worship, most probably Christian or analogous to that, during the time that Jeddah was still a very small town and most of activities are centered in Makkah. 

Exactly similar story was given to me by another friend.  But would I believe it?  Not really, though eerily interesting. 

For me at least, it looks like an old house, it has several windows so am presupposing that it maybe a residence of a prominent traditional family in the distant past? 

And my skepticism actually were fortified by the latest story I’ve heard from another local acquaintance I’ve met recently.   

This is his version, which is more viable for me.   He said, it’s a very old building during the Ottoman rule and they cannot tear it down because there’s a legal entity who claims ownership to the structure and the land where it stands. 

That explains the architectural style of the edifice. So there goes… Unless there’s another story that comes up, am holding on to the recent adaptation as a feasible story. 

Unless someone else have got an alternative. 

Anyone?

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Last night, I felt this sudden urge to remove the sleeves of my DVDs.  It’s kind of practical space saver just to put all of them in one box instead of plunking them all together with their sleeves on the shelf.   

Then I noticed some of these guys without labels, I put one on the player, hey… Indian movie…hmmm… it’s the one I’ve seen in one of Mumbai’s state-of-the-art cinema complex couple of years back, titled “ Kal Ho Naa Ho “ which starred Bollywood’s mega-hearthrob Shahrukh Khan. 

So I end up watching a rehash.  It was entertaining with all those authentically contemporary Indian dance routine that was something different from the conventional Hollywood musicals. 

The nice thing about a Bollywood movie is its diversity.  Expect to have loads of all the genre thrown in one movie – action, drama, comedy and musical.  So you’d be exercising all those different emotions during the entire viewing time – you’ll get excited with the action, then tearful over the drama, suddenly you’ll be laughing at the funny antics, and lastly, bopping and boogieing to the beats of Indian pop music while the people on the screen were dancing with their colourful costumes.  A viewing feast! 

There’s something in Bollywood movies that is so captivating, a respite from a full-week of watching Hollywood movies that typically tackles  most things Americans.  Sometimes it gets so lame watching movies about battles that were singularly won over by the American people.  Or one person championing the cause of the destitutes, or a hero who’s fighting a whole battalion without getting hit by machine guns, an armour tank, or even a nuclear bomb. Things that don’t normally happen in real life.  Well, that’s why it’s called movie –  another dimension of incredibilities that may or may not really transpire in real life. 

So going back to Bollywood, I finished the whole movie last night and it still charmed me.  I have quite a collection of Indian movies mostly those that have English translation running below the screen.  I like the comedy ones though that has romantic angles.  More often than not it’s about 2 guys fighting for the love of a girl or the other way around. Bollywood movies are very popular – after all they are the largest film producers in the world.  So many Hollywod and Brit films in the past have Bollywood touch – the very colourful “Guru” for one is very Bollywood with Hollywood actors (stars Jimi Misri, Marisa Tomei and Heather Graham).  “Bend it Like Beckham” starred mostly British-Indians is a very entertaining one, is it Kiera Knightley’s first film?  She was so slim & young in that movie.  At least one or more MTVs done by MJ or Janet or J.Lo and many other artists have Indian dances.  There is something in their choreography that’s appealing to international audiences. Like when you see one, you’ll instantly say it’s  Indian.  

I remember the first Bollywood movie I saw many years back titled Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, a little corny now but used to be a big hit. 

Recently, I have seen several Bollywood produced movies that have been shot in the US and UK which made it more amusing because of the concoction of both eastern and western cultures – easterners in a western setting, offering the audiences a unique viewing experience.   

My flatmates usually find me somewhat peculiar watching Bollywood movies until they got used to seeing me watch movies in various languages that I may or may not even understand, even Turkish and Arabic films, and listening to music foreign to their ears.  I don’t find myself bizarre, in contrast, I find them very conventional – trapped inside a box.  Like I would always say, explore beyond the common, experience different tastes, sounds and sights, and if you have the time and resources immerse yourself in other cultures.

Think outside of the box, so the business cliché goes. 

Good news, Dubai’s free-to-air TV channel (in English) is going to start injecting Bollywood movies in their monthly full-length films repertoire.  Wise move.  After all Dubai has a huge Indian population, if not the biggest number of expats in the Emirates. 

I think I have to go to the downtown this weekend to check new Bollywood releases, I haven’t seen anything new for along time.  

MBC2 is screening “The Grudge 2” while am writing this, a portion of the film were shot with Japanese actors.  Jpop is another personal fascination.  I haven’t seen this movie, so am parking for now.

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Believe it or not, am watching Tyra Banks right now. 

Though almost all of these talk shows like Oprah, Dr. Phil, The Views, etc… have the same platforms, still they do provide some sort of entertainment, and gets you in touch with your emotional side.   Besides, whenever I ran out of movies to watch, they could fill in the boring gaps. So am reading this travelogues again while listening to Tyra rambling endlessly on TV, she’s really gorgeous at 33.    I’ve read a lot of travelogues about Syria and loads of travelers say that Syrians are one (if not the number 1) of the most hospitable and friendliest people on the planet, though there are some also who singled-out Iranians, but my personal experience would pick-out Turkish for reason that I haven’t been to both Syria and Iran.  The irony of this is, the people who are pronouncing Syrians as incredibly welcoming – are in fact Americans.  Ironic because their government nearly (or did they) included Syria  into their “Axis of Evil” list. 

Yet again, the voice of the government or their leaders should not be taken as the voice of the whole populace.  Reminds me that I should be planning a visit to this country in the near future if not this year.   I have a similar view about Turkish.  Well, bcuz I have a really amazing experience with the people around the country.

Not discounting the fact that the country really blows me with lots of things to see – historical and natural.  There are a lot of places and personalities on the Holy Books that could be found in Turkey.  St. Paul’s crusade-journey almost encompasses the whole country.  St. Peter (the rock) carved out the very first Catholic church in Antakya (Antioch). St. John the Baptist’s remains lies in Selcuk.  The Virgin Mary mother of Jesus’s final abode is perched on top of a scenic hill in Ephesus and so is the cave of the 7 Sleepers, St. Philip’s in Hierapolis, and so many Christian saints.  All the 7 churches mentioned in the Revelation could be found in Turkey.  Two out of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World (Temple of Artemis and the Halicarnassus Mausoleum) can be found in Selcuk and Bodrum respectively.  Huge Christian underground cities are numerous – 2 I know in Cappadocia.  Istanbul (Constantinople in the early years) is the seat of several Empires (Byzantine, Otooman) and the capital of the Roman Empire for a long time.  Impressive history that could only rival with Rome and Athens.  So much to see and things to do and culture to immerse in.  And the best selling point is the country’s remarkable hospitality and their enthusiasm in providing help to tourists. I’ve meandered around the country, travels that takes from a minimum of 8 to 15 hours by land in between cities and towns, along the streets of every city or town and believe me I never got lost, at least for a long time or lost as in really Lost.  Because in most times that I almost gone misplaced – there would always be a kind soul to put me back on the right track.  Happens all the time even if the transportation network in the country is impressively comprehensive, and they have this truly incredible tourism cooperative effort that makes traveling a lot convenient.  There was this one time we were trekking up the acropolis and we’re trying to find our way through the maze of alleyways, there would always be people even kids along the way who pointed us to the right direction – even if you’re not really asking, they knew you’re getting lost.  And even if no one’s around, juz peek in the entrances of one of those small houses and unbelievably without any talks (most of them have limited English if none at all) they will point you to where you should be heading. 

Simply amazing!  I had this hospitality experience that I will talk about in the next few days. Also, am still building my travel pages in one of the popular travel website online.  I’ll put a link in here soon.  And BTW, Celine Dion will be having a series of concerts at the Four Season’s Golf Club in Dubai Festival City on March 5, check out the details if you’re a big fan…… unfortunately I am not.   One last note for you Michael mi amigo:     … “Live your life til love is found or love’s gonna get you down…”

Anyhoo…. this morning while I was waiting for the guy in the office to pick me up – one of the best moment I hate is waiting -  I saw one of those guys wearing violet uniforms cleaning the streets of the city who greeted me with the usual “Salam”.  That was nice, I thought, to start the day. 

He’s from Bangladesh, like most of his peers. I stood on the platform, second level of the stairs adjacent to the store (baqala) in the building.  The driver called up and he’s about to tell me, at least that’s how I understand it, to move on the other side of the road to avoid the rush, instead he said…”ok am turning around in a couple of minutes…”. 

Standing there, the Bengali suddenly sat on the first level of the stairs leading to the lobby of our building and puts his hand inside his overall uniform pocket and a piece of bread came out from his hand.  It’s one of those 4-for-1riyal, that looks to me like it’s a couple of days old as it crumbles into his mouth when it shouldn’t whenever they’re fresh. 

And while he’s nibbling onto the aged piece of bread his eyes are moving coyly like there is some tinge of indignity in what he’s doing. Suddenly, I felt so guilt-ridden, so I immediately rushed inside the store and bought the guy something to go with the piece of bread.  I dunno, but I still feel guilty about the whole scene when we sped away while at the same time grateful for whatever I have. 

Then I remember my officemate who said that he despise those people (Bangalis) —  for one thing he said they did something despicable in the capital city that made the government fuming at them to the point of sending most of them home, can’t verify truth about this though. Adding to that, he also said that most of the guys inside the prison cells  - he was once a guest of the dreaded prison -  are mostly Bangalis which made him generalize the whole population. 

There I was again with contradicting his generalizing opinion.  I dunno, but I always remember the famous philosophy of the hand – the fingers on your hands are not the same, so they say, though they all belong to the same hand. I can’t blame the misconduct of one person to the whole population.  The “if A is equals to B and B is equals to C therefore C is equals to A” kind of common sense can’t be applied to such situation. 

I hate this kind of attitude, bcoz no matter how dreadful most of the people in one country is, I still believe that there would always be pleasant ones – if not equally, maybe more.  And I always believe that there are factors that drives people to be fraudulent… unless of course they intend to do it for no other reason than inherency. 

No matter how hard my officemate discourage me from feeling compunction, he could never dissuade me.  Am the type of a person that’s genuinely firm on my own ground to be swayed or gets manipulated. I juz wish I would see the Bengali on the platform again, to get this guilt out of my system. 

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BTW, “Bengali on Platform” is a genius Morrisey’s famous song that goes like this:

 Bengali, Bengali
Bengali, Bengali
No no no
He does not want to depress you
Oh no no no no no
He only wants to impress you
Oh..Bengali in platforms
He only wants to embrace your culture
And to be your friend forever
ForeverBengali, Bengali
Bengali, Bengali
Oh, shelve your Western plans
And understand
That life is hard enough when you belong here

A silver-studded rim that glistens
And an ankle-star that … blinds me
A lemon sole so very high
Which only reminds me; to tell you
Break the news gently
Break the news to him gently
“Shelve your plans; shelve your plans, shelve them”

Bengali, Bengali
It’s the touchy march of time that binds you
Don’t blame me
Don’t hate me
Just because I’m the one to tell you

That life is hard enough when you belong here
That life is hard enough when you belong here
Oh…
Shelve your Western plans
Oh…
Shelve your Western plans
‘Cause life is hard enough when you belong
Life is hard enough when you belong here
Oh…
Shelve your Western plans
Oh…
Shelve your best friends
‘Cause life is hard when you belong here
 

In the high life, I’ve got this feeling now
I’ve got this horrible feeling
On the escalator, they took it out on him
As the ridiculous world went by

Oh, he’s gone
He’s my insatiable one
Oh, he is gone
He’s my insatiable one
Oh …

On the high wire, dressed in a leotard
There wobbles one hell of a retard
On the escalator, you shit paracetamol
As the ridiculous world goes by

Oh, he is gone
He’s my insatiable one
Oh, he is gone
He’s my insatiable one
Oh …

Oh, he is gone
He’s my insatiable one
Oh, he is gone
And he was my inflatable one
Oh …

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. …why do I give valuable time to people who I’d much rather kick in the eye — goes one of my fav’rite line from the genius himself Morissey Smith.

 Tell me people you really hate and I’ll give you a showcase of mine. I started this list, and I intend to update it every now and then, well, sometimes different types may resemble each other or overlaps, but, hey they belong to the same tupperware party people …. (you may want to inlude your list too).

 The Self-absorbed type who would always want to tell stories about himself/herself and when you start to talk, he would pretend to be listening when in fact he’s been trying to construct another story and ready to blurt out another blow dimming your own story on the background if not totally tossing it out of the conversation.

Easy to spot them, he/she is that narcist fellow who would always pose consciously and conscientiously at anything shiny that would cast his image on – a mirror, a car window, the façade of a mall, a spoon, even the metal backing of a mobile phone. Why do they invented anything more lucid than a shadow.

Arrrgh! I couldn’t stand those people who would always look at themselves eternally on the mirror with words such as “am gaining weight” when in fact they juz want to tell you that you are bloody huge. Self-deifying with so much concern about their bodies – like there’s nothing wrong with their faces.

The indirectly self-professing type who would always device stories to brag about his/her accomplishments. I’ve met one who would always tell me stories like – “hey I was lucky enough to land on this job among a thousand others who’ve been praying to land on the job and who graduated from such and such ivy league universities… and blah..blah…blah”.

And…. “you know, I am really blessed this year cuz I’ll be getting a promotion and I will be the first ______ (nationality) who would land on such lofty position in the company”. And… “I hate other people whom I think are befriending me juz cuz they know I have this ______ (amount) salary”.

And….. “I thank God for giving me these blessings that other people aren’t lucky enough to have.. and blah…blah…blah…”  CRAP!

Shite! I truly, rightly, sincerely, greatly, enormously hate that!!! I wanted to hit his nose with a huge pan if only I am holding one.  For god-sake, you could always juz pray and thank god silently, you don’t have to tell me that you are thanking god cuz I could hear you and God could hear you too and you don’t need a third party to partake your “humble” gratefulness.

The Cool-pretentious-type who don’t want to show off his/her real emotions and personality afraid to generate negative comments or treatment from friends. This is the type who stays cool, like – “I don’t really get serious with stuff like relationships, juz playing with them cuz you know….and blah…blah…blah…” CRAP!

B’cuz fact of the matter is…. they are contemplating on a suicide when his/her partner left him/her for another. But you won’t see that in them anyways. I call them implosives as oppose to other people who are explosives – those are the ones who could always express themselves openly no matter how much ridicule they expect to endure. Implosives are dangerous, move back once the time bomb starts to tick, their blasts would blow you away.

…..to be continued….

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Here’s an addition:

I remember this one time I was on a metro train heading for home, actually a friend’s home where I was staying during one of my vacations.  I was sitting near the sliding doors of the train and there were these young asians (2 guys and 2 gals) standing beside the metal bar juz fronting the door.  They were talking among them but I could hear fractions of what they’re saying.  I collect that they were making comparisons between them and the locals.  One of them said (in their local language, happens to be mine too)…. “they (the locals) look good only because they’re whites, but actually they dress lousy.  We dress better than them.  They don’t really know how to put-on”… and I heard the other guy said… “oh yeah, and they don’t get in the shower much and they don’t look as smart as us, and…etc…etc…”.  Absurd!  There’s a part of my brain smiling silently with those comments.

There goes my next hated people –  The feeling-best-of-the-bunch type. 

If you care to know –  they were talking about those people from (one of) the fashion capital of the world! Hellawww!  Good thing they got off at the next station, as my ears were starting to bleed.  If only the locals would understand their trash talks, I bet they would end up lashed out onto the train tracks. I bet they have not realized how many people from the slums back home who can’t even buy a pair of neat jeans and shirts, much more those chic and trendy get ups which are conventional around that place?  Nerve-wracking! Ask me what they’re sporting?  …. The poverty’s luxury brand (I won’t mention the brand names but here’s a hint) starts with the letter G and ends with O, and the other is a 3-word brand that starts with U and the third word ends with the letter N…go figure!  …and pairs of factory overrun jeans that was hollowed out of the huge pile of ukay-ukay somewhere in Pasay or Binondo.  

To be honest, I also have some of those (not the ukay-ukay though), but ain’t the type who does judgment ending up with “me” or my people as the greater ones.  I know where I came from or where I stand.  Pays to be modest at most times.

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The internet in my PC is not working today for some reason, the IT guy said the virus is busting the connection or sumthin’ like that…. and I hate it because I feel like it’s not the main reason, I feel like he doesn’t know much about technical stuff goin’ on.  But nevertheless, I pulled out all the cables connected at the back of the CPU and tossed it to the IT department to fix the problem.

 I wanted to upload some pics to my Flickr account, problem is, all my pics are on my iPod which is virus-infected too and I don’t want to fuck-up this notebook cuz it’s not mine….. my boss’s!   Am messing up with his notebook now cuz he’s out of the office and ain’t got anything to use writing this one.

OK, so I don’t have a story for now cuz the subject that I was starting last night was also on my iPod and you know the reason why I can’t hook it here. 

 Arrrrrrrrgh!  It’s so painful having no internet connection.  It’s like hell on earth.  Especially when your work depends on the internet connection, well, not totally true but when you ain’t got much stuff to do, the internet is one of the best tool to keep you busy, or to make you busy or  to make you look busy…. or juz simply …whatever.

Have to pack this up, can’t do anything much today and I have to return this equipment to the table where it belong… feels like am useless today…  as if….